


College Rocks

by StimmyMage



Series: Strong in a Different Way [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Greg is a minor character sorry, I just want Pearl to be happy and in love ok, I'm not projecting PTSD and gay angst what, also Amethyst is specifically a kid so she can be only a few years older than Steven, because she has serious Big Cousin vibes, my heart hurts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23644093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StimmyMage/pseuds/StimmyMage
Summary: Pearl is a loner. She loves studying and hates people, except her sister and (though she wouldn't admit it) her niece. But then, in a class on Rome, she meets the most wonderful person named Rose and suddenly she wants to be a real person and a part of the world. This one is just fluff, watch for sequels that may be angst.
Relationships: Pearl/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe)
Series: Strong in a Different Way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702174
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	College Rocks

Pearl wasn’t cool. She was too precise for that. She was just a kid who liked to dance and fence and still lived with her big sister in college. She had tried to live in the dorms first, and had a breakdown three  days in. She just wasn’t cut out for being around...well, people. She liked everything to look neat and perfect, to bring order to her own little world. The rest of the world was chaos, and if she couldn’t do anything about that, she would control what she could.

Thus, her room was perfect. Her coat and bookbag hung on hooks on the back of her door, her bed was spread up neatly, her papers were stacked on her desk in careful piles, and her collection of daggers was organized by style on her windowsill. Pearl was currently reading a thick novel on her bed, legs crossed, and humming vaguely to herself. It was Sunday night and she was ready for the new semester to start. She wasn’t nervous.

Hard to be anxious no one will talk to you when you don’t ever expect them to.

The rest of the house wasn’t so neat and quiet. Without warning, the door opened and a chubby toddler with pale almost-silver hair came flying in. She was laughing and reaching for the nearest dagger.

“Amethyst, no!” The book went flying, but Pearl was only halfway up when a strong hand picked up the child.

“Amethyst, that’s not for you. Sorry, Pearl.” Garnet didn’t  _ sound  _ sorry, but she never really did. One had to learn that her emotions came out through her words and actions, but not her face or tone. Pearl was used to it.

“That—that’s ok. It’s fine. Just...my display of potentially deadly weapons.” She was still fiddling with the daggers to evenly space the handles as Garnet walked out with Amethyst under her arm and closed the door with one foot.

Names, Pearl mused. She supposed Pearl was a more normal name than Garnet, but she couldn’t fathom what their mother had been thinking. She used to laugh and call them her crystal gems, like they were a team of superheroes. Garnet thought it was funny; Pearl did not. But according to everyone she’d ever known Pearl had no sense of humor, so what did she know? But why in the world Garnet had to give her own child a gem name was so far beyond her. If she ever had a child—which she wouldn’t--she’d name her something straightforward and elegant, like Evelyn or Lucy. Not that she would ever be interested in the mess of a child, or in being around another person enough to raise one together.

The knives perfect again, she picked up her book and laid it on the desk. It was 9:59. By the time she tucked herself under the several layers of blankets, hugged her stuffed jellyfish, and reached up to turn off the light, it was 10:00 exactly. She could still hear Garnet’s throaty voice singing over Amethyst’s chatter. It didn’t take long to drift off in the safe and controlled space of her home.

She was up the moment her alarm  chirped, and dressed in the blue and pink outfit she’d laid out a moment later. In the kitchen, Garnet was cooking eggs with one hand and feeding a shrieking Amethyst cereal with the other.

“You should eat before you leave,” she called flatly just as Pearl’s hand touched the door handle.

“No, I’m good actually, thanks.” No one believed that Pearl didn’t particularly like food in general. It was all too squishy or slimy or crumbly. And besides, she only had half an hour to walk the four blocks to the bus stop, and if anything  happened she might be late.

But Garnet appeared in the doorway holding out a plate and glass. “Eat your toast. You’re not late.”

The toast was cooked just enough to be crunchy without falling apart as she bit it, and plain without any sort of spread. The glass was filled with pulp-free orange juice. As good as breakfast came. She ate in the hallway, watching Amethyst shove her fist into her oatmeal from across the room, and then carefully rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher before turning towards the door again.

“Bye. Love you.” Garnet didn’t turn around.

“Yes, bye! Love you too! Be safe and careful and if I’m not back by four I’m probably murdered.”

Pearl ran most of the way to the bus stop and was six minutes early. The bus, when it came, wasn’t particularly crowded first thing in the morning. Pearl always greeted the driver quietly and sat in the window seat behind him, staring at the world through dirty glass. It was a pretty city, but Pearl didn’t look up at the buildings. She always watched the street for the trash and litter and people’s feet taking them places. She wondered about the people belonging to those feet, their lives and worries and loves, but she never looked at the faces or eyes. Down felt safer.

Pearl was proud of her college decisions. Her mother had derided her on the phone over it—impractical, useless, expensive—but Garnet had gotten on after and told her off, and Pearl hadn’t heard a word about it since. Garnet had that effect on people, something Pearl had always been jealous of. She wanted to respond to criticism and the world at large with unshakable, blank-faced strength rather than tears and shrinking into the closet. But she couldn’t change who she was and had given up trying. So, she controlled what little she could, and among those things were her studies. She had chosen to study history, with a concentration on warfare. War was messy, but strategies were neat and  memorizeable . And she loved learning about the different weapons and how they were used. In ancient war, mostly; bombs and gas had no elegance to them, just mess and destruction. Her minor was dance, and she was good at it even if she spent the time before and after class reading alone while the other girls huddled together into a clique. The only extracurricular she allowed herself was fencing. The coach was impressed with her  skill, but seemed to think she needed to try harder on teamwork. It wasn’t her fault, though, that she was better at it than the others or that anytime she tried to talk to them it came out as random unrelated facts. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t understand their meaningless talk of movies and romance and parties.

Pearl  actually loved school, but she hated the first day. She liked raising her hand because she had done the reading and knew the answer. She enjoyed the neatness and challenge of tests. She loved to learn new things and babble at Garnet about them later. She lived for the comments on her tests and essays that were almost always along the lines of “very well written and researched, I learned something new. Keep it up!” What she didn’t like was finding a seat in a new room, and a crowd of faces she didn’t know, and having to play icebreaker games.

Her first class was on ancient Rome, and one she felt certain would be easy. It was even in a room she’d had a class in last term, so she felt better about that. She was early (as usual) and only the third person there, which made it easier to cross the room and curl up in her previous seat by the window. She got lost in her book and wasn’t paying attention as the room filled up. She thought she’d seen a few students before—it wasn’t a huge history department—but she wasn’t entirely sure. She’d completely forgotten her surroundings in favor of a world of fantasy and spaceships, when something unusual happened. A voice, speaking to her, pulled her back.

“Hi. Sorry. I just transferred  here and I wanted to make sure this is the room I’m supposed to be in. Is this the class on, um, Rome?”

Pearl glanced up. And kept looking up, all the way to a round face and almost to the eyes. Her first impression was  _ pink _ . Her second was that she’d never seen anyone so beautiful. The other girl was nearly a foot taller than her with long curled hair dyed bright pink wearing dark pink shorts (it was cold out, Pearl remembered absently) and a pink and white t-shirt. “Um...what. I mean, yes. It is. Uh, sorry. I—I'm Pearl.”

The other girl laughed, her voice low and rich. “Hi. I’m Rose.” Rose sat at the desk next to her, and Pearl had the sudden impression there wasn’t enough air in the room. “Pearl. I like it. It’s exotic. So, what are you majoring in?”

“Dance. I mean, history! Uh, both. W-what about you?” Did she always sound like this when she was talking? She didn’t think so, but it was suddenly hard to remember.

“Botany, but I needed a couple  electives and this sounded fun.”

“Um, botany? Plants? Like...like your name?” Pearl winced and blushed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. So much for any chance of a second conversation.

But Rose was smiling, laughing again. “Yes, like that. My full name is  actually Rosemary , but everyone started calling me Rose when I was little and couldn’t stay out of the garden.  So it is connected, I suppose. I know everyone thinks that when I tell them my plans, but usually they’re too polite to say it. Good job, I admire someone who can speak their mind.”

Pearl’s face felt hot. “Heh, that’s me. Can’t seem to stop speaking my mind.”

Green eyes suddenly met hers with sharp intensity. She almost didn’t want to look away. “Well, I hope you never do. Your mind is amazing. Or at least, what I’ve heard of it so far is. Tell you what, I’m completely new to town. Here’s my number. Call me and we can study together sometime. I could use a friend.”

Pearl carefully folded the slip of paper, which Rose had torn sloppily out of her notebook and scribbled on in pink glitter  pen, and tucked it into her jacket pocket. She had never been disappointed to be interrupted by the start of class before.


End file.
